A Face in the Light
by Starscream's Mishap
Summary: The Sequel to A Hand in the Dark. Swoop's vistor never thought he would have to choose between the mech he's with and his best friend.
1. A Knock at the Door

The Autobot leader has many tasks on his datapad. Every day the jobs that keep the city running like a well-oiled machine (_Rodimus chuckled at that, realizing he MUST be exhausted if that kind of pun was funny_) are delegated/taken care of, while more pile up behind it. If there is a Decepticon raid, or the Quintessons are up to their usual tricks, or ANYTHING important emerges, the pile is postponed. Some tasks can be put off until later; some have to be done late at night. Some take too long. When Rodimus finally finished all of the things he had to do that day it was almost another morning.

Metroplex began to show signs of stirring as Rodimus Prime, Autobot leader, the Chosen One, Carrier of the Matrix of Leadership, crept through the shadows like a Lamborghini brother hot on a prank. He felt ridiculous. All of this sneaking around when he should be able to go and do whatever he wanted, instead of taking the lower corridors to get around higher-traffic areas. All of this was done in the name of personal satisfaction. Keeping a quick stride and an official expression on his face, Rodimus marched through the private quarters of the lower-level Autobot facilities and barged into a room at the last minute without knocking. Nobody saw him.

The light was on. Giant crayons were strewn about as Swoop, asleep on the floor, kicked at them in mid-dream. He had waited up for Rodimus again, something he'd taken to doing since they'd ceased their speechless love-fests and gone back to talking. He loved to draw the object of his affection as they conversed. All over the room were careful renderings of the Autobot leader sitting, standing, shooting his blaster, fighting with Galvatron, or the cutest one of all: Swoop in Dinobot form with Rodimus on his back as they flew among the clouds. Seeing him on the floor, supine, gave Rodimus license to imagine a couple of dirty things before shaking them off and leaning over to wake his lover up.

"Swoop," he whispered softly as the Dinobot continued to remain offline. His walls were thin and neighbors nosy. "C'mon, Sweetie, it's bed time."

"Dumb nickname," the Pteronadon muttered as he clumsily turned over onto his stomach.

Rodimus laughed. "It gets your attention, though." Swoop grumbled softly and crawled on all fours over to his recharge plate. His drawing utensils scattered everywhere. Rodimus glanced around the room, noticing that crayons weren't the only thing out of place, until his gaze rested on Swoop, who'd fallen back to sleep, arm dangling over the edge of the bed, and all of the racy thoughts that clambered to be acknowledged in his database died. Not tonight. Neither of them was up for it. Rodimus mentally sighed in frustration. Well, he couldn't stay here, that would guarantee being caught by someone, the last thing Rodimus desired; so now he had to leave as abruptly as he had arrived.

"Good-night, Swoop." Rodimus left the room unsatisfied ('_Not the first time, and probably not the last' he thought sourly_). He was so lost in thought that he forgot where he was going and took the main stairway, running into a couple of people on their way upstairs to begin their shifts.

"'Morning Rodimus," greeted more than a few surprised faces. Their Prime was not often seen in this corner of the city.

"Good morning," he responded graciously, nodding to the confused Autobots. He mentally berated himself for getting distracted again by other thoughts. To avoid all of this attention, his goal in the first place, he should have taken the back way. On the same level as the commissary he bumped into Springer.

"He-ey, Roddy. What are you up to this early?" The green mech was one of Rodimus' best friends, which allowed him to use an informal nickname and not be reprimanded. Not that Rodimus minded anyone for being that familiar (he couldn't get Swoop to call him Roddy), it was just an old tradition to keep Prime on a pedestal, one Rodimus' friends couldn't abide with. Come to think of it, Rodimus wasn't too fond of it either.

"Work." Rodimus knew to keep it short and vague; no one ever asked for conversational details when he used a terse, all-encompassing explanation.

"The job of a Prime is never done," Springer commented in a bantering manner, like everything else he said. "So what was it this time? Did one of the Dinobots need a bedtime story?" He had a smile that spread softly around the contours of his lower face in the nicest way. Many an Autobot had sighed over it in their younger days, when both were competing for the attention of as many individuals as possible. It was an intimate smile, one that included you in the joke as well as made you the target of it. Rodimus took it as his way of teasing, although it seemed his words might not be; these had a slight edge to them. Maybe it was Rodimus' imagination. He hadn't had much sleep.

"Yeah." Rodimus set up plans to meet up with Springer and company later, but for now...his recharge plate called. Using his Prime prerogative Rodimus told Metroplex not to allow anyone within five feet of him unless they were being fired at and collapsed offline...five minutes before the earth's sun blazed in its full glory for a new day to begin.

* * *

Hot Rod had been unlucky in love throughout his entire functioning existence. He could chase anything, true to his sports car form, with speed and agility, but like chasing his shadow there was nothing to catch. Everyone from Ultra Magnus to Sunstreaker to Arcee had fled his attempts to become closer than friends. He could not understand how anyone could be repulsed by him, since he had friends and no _Autobot_ enemies. Arcee told him it was fate. Ultra Magnus told him he was too sensitive. Sunstreaker claimed he was crazy, and to get away from his door or else. If a kind someone hadn't taken pity on him one over-energized night he would be as innocent as Swoop. 

When Hot Rod became Rodimus Prime, things changed, but not for the better. Those who had skillfully eluded his affections continued to do so while those he would never consider adequate _race_ partners, let alone anyone who could bear the stress of being with The Chosen One, threw themselves at his wheels multiple times. Rodimus was not a fool, even with the Matrix muttering admonitions into his processor. He sent them away with no uncertain ideas.

The Dinobots were a strange group of outsiders even after almost two earth decades of existence and constant mental upgrades. Most only considered them large, loose cannons that were kept around on the whim of the deceased Optimus Prime. They kept to themselves, occasionally allowing Grimlock some kind of leader's immunity to diplomatically work with their Prime, whom they considered their only equal. Grimlock was a decent friend and a good warrior, claiming Rodimus to be a kindred spirit (not his words), one worth fighting alongside for a cause they cared nothing about but would be glad to help "Rod-ee-moose" for. When Rodimus needed strength, the Dinobots were called to accomplish the near impossible.

Rodimus Prime had watched Swoop's ability to fight fiercely, curiosity leading him to discover the Pteronadon's sweet, laid-back nature. It was gratifying to see the careful way his comrades protected him from other Autobots but trusted their Prime enough to associate with them, allowing the maroon mech to get to know all of them but favoring the Pteronadon the most. In a moment of impulse Rodimus had accidentally discovered Swoop's secret adoration. The rest had fallen into place.

Strangely enough, the Dinobot tolerated the bizarre behaviors other partners never knew Rodimus had, or ran from as soon as they'd seen emerge. Swoop didn't care that they couldn't be seen together in public, he was not jealous of Rodimus' other friends consuming most of his free time, he never resented his duties as leader of the Autobots, and he proudly stood up to Grimlock when the Tyrannosaurus voiced concern over the dangers of this union. The blue and gray mech good-naturedly saw Rodimus whenever it was feasible and never questioned the motives behind it. Once, he asked for commitment but did not hold a grudge when rebuffed. Rodimus and Swoop couldn't be happier.

The Matrix knew better. It saw far too many elements that should not mix but were; a recipe for disaster. Its warnings to Rodimus went unheeded as it foresaw, and witnessed, its Prime grow tired of his first attachment, listlessly wondering if this were all there was to it and if the excitement wearing off would ever return. He was ripe for disaster, and it concerned The Matrix. There was too much at stake for Rodimus to trip over something so minor.

The wire loomed closer than expected.

* * *

Grimlock called his meeting of the Dinobots to order. The response was underwhelming: Swoop continued to color, Sludge and Snarl started a new round of Cat's Cradle, and Slag ignored him while playing jacks with a basketball and some old Dinobot-sized plastic jacks. Around them the commissary was silent. This was the middle of the early-morning shift, leaving the cafeteria an ideal place to meet while the Dinobot rumpus room was being painted. Grimlock had no old business, no new business, and no secretary to read the minutes, so after five minutes he was taking his turn at jacks, while across the room Rodimus Prime sat down with his mug of energon accompanied by Blurr filling him in on what he'd missed while offline. 

"TheAerialbotsraodioedandsaidthatthere'satimewarplettingancienthumansbackhereandUltraMagnuslookedupourarchives'causeJazzthoughtitsoundedfamilar-"

He was making Rodimus' CPU hurt, forcing him to use his sterner tone, one he used when negotiating with the enemy. "Blurr, put it on a datapad. I need time to process this." Blurr was an enigma when anyone had a decent night's recharge, but today would be impossible. Prime felt like a zombie. He stared off into space until he was aware that THIS particular space was filled by a placid Dinobot and his paper.

Swoop was adorable. Blue optics concentrated on what he was doing while his lips curved a certain way while he drew his art. He leaned in to get a better look at it, face studiously concentrating, until he was aware of someone's optics on him. The mech looked up to see Rodimus watching. Although they never acknowledged each other in public, as Rodimus had declared it a bad idea and Swoop agreed, the Dinobot was caught in the moment of receiving a tender expression from his favorite Autobot. Surreptitiously Swoop wiggled a few fingers in greeting and went back to work, giggling. Prime chuckled too.

"Hey! Online yet?" Springer whacked Rodimus on the back as hard as he could while the surrounding chairs filled with Kup, Arcee, and Bumblebee. (_Bumblebee? Who invited him? This meant Wheelie and Daniel weren't that far behind._) Rodimus was glad he hadn't been mid-drink or it would be all over the table. Only Springer could get away with this. Prime shoved him out of his chair to raucous laughter.

Arcee patted his shoulder, face concerned. "It's almost nine, Rodimus. We thought you'd be gone for the day."

Prime shook his head. "I worked through the night again."

Springer jumped back into his chair, straddling the back as he spoke casually. "I think he was doing something else." His mischievous smile's allusion to a double meaning cracked them up. He had a way of weaving a spell over crowds that still stymied his maroon counterpart. "Any guesses who the lucky mech would be?"

The pink femme piped up first. "Was he downstairs? If he wasn't, my guess is Jazz."

Bumblebee refused to believe that. Jazz had Prowl walking funny some mornings. Roddy looked fine. If it were anybody, it would be Blurr.

The others regarded him disgustedly. For some strange reason Rodimus felt sorry that no one could treat someone so serious about the cause better so he saved the mini-bot by saying, "Had him. He took too long." This cast his own spell, one granting permission for anyone to make the most ridiculous conjectures at their leader's expense. If he kept it informal, he rationalized, maybe they would not take it seriously either. Perhaps they would inadvertently reveal what they were saying about him behind his back. Rodimus tried to relax, telling himself it was a gag, but more than a little nervous since Springer's voice had that edge to it again.

"Nah, Red Alert!" Kup getting involved made it even more unreal. Prime took a sip of energon before responding.

"A screamer."

"How'd you pry him away from Inferno?"

"Who do you think held the camera?"

"AUGH!" Everyone backed away from Rodimus while he had a laugh over that.

"Ultra Magnus!" called Bumblebee.

Rodimus shook his head. "Too bossy." They had not known it, but the large carrier had been pining away for somebody else the times Rodimus had tried to build rapport with him.

"Kup!" quipped Kup.

Prime tilted his head saucily. "Taught me everything I know."

"That would have taken less time than Blurr," Springer's handsome face was furtively scanning the room. Nobody here but them and a few Dinobots.

"Perceptor!" Arcee tried again.

"Have you seen him with ANYBODY? Can you picture it?" The scientist took that moment to enter the commissary in a slow chase with Wheelie to retrieve something stolen. The larger mech could not bear to lose his dignity by breaking into a run, but he wanted the invention back. Wheelie was having too much fun to stop.

"Give it to me, Wheelie! I want it!" Perceptor called, frustrated. The minute he departed the whole table erupted. There were cracks about bleaching their optics, Perceptor asking Wheelie if he wanted some candy, etc.

"Grimlock!" Springer had finally ventured a guess, one that caused the Dinobot leader to stop playing jacks and turn up his audios without looking over at the table. His entire troop became quiet as the others snickered.

"Leave the lad alone, Springer." Kup had felt the need to interject some logic before their conversation took a nasty turn. "He would never take advantage of the Autobots he's in charge of like that."

"Optimus Prime had somebody," Bumblebee replied as Rodimus did his best to keep a normal facade. "He had Elita-1."

Now Grimlock was openly staring.

"That was a femme. No offense meant, Arcee." She declared none taken as Kup continued. "That's a different group altogether, and that relationship was mostly long-distance. Prime didn't have anybody on the warfront."

"He broke a lot of ground mixing factions like that," Rodimus pointed out, hoping to change the subject. "Before him, there wasn't a lot of mingling." Now there were femmes with mechs, Aerialbots with mini-bots, Autobots with aliens; even, in Sandstorm's case, an Autobot and a Decepticon. There were still a few taboos regarding the subject of Autobot miscegenation.

"I liked it better that way," Kup rumbled. "It seemed right."

Here Sludge and Snarl looked up, smiling at each other.

Springer shook his head. "I find it VERY difficult to believe Optimus Prime spent every night by himself. He was PRIME. Why be a leader if you can't have a little fun, right Bumblebee?" Bumblebee didn't know, or if he did, he wasn't talking. "You think Megatron didn't have anybody?"

Slag put down the jacks and glared.

"Soundwave! Prepare for probing!" they chorused. It was a long-standing joke. The laugh they shared filled Rodimus' audios and finally allowed him to accept this as the joke it was and less of an inquisition.

When the amusement wore off an invisible signal must have been given, because suddenly Arcee and Kup had to be somewhere, dragging Bumblebee with them. They patted both of them on the back, Arcee whispering something to the green mech while he nodded in response.

Springer smiled at Rodimus. The same soft, pleasant smile that adorned his handsome face when he saw something beautiful worthy of acquisition. "You get around," he commented. "Red Alert, Perceptor, Blurr..."

The Autobot leader smiled self-consciously. "All one-night stands." Rodimus did not like the turn this conversation was taking. The tone was still light, but there was that accusing undercurrent. "Nothing serious."

"Liar. There IS someone." The smile widened.

"No." The Autobot leader glanced away from his accuser, face neutral. The panic was encroaching, and he couldn't let anyone see it.

He emitted a laugh. "C'mon, Roddy, it's obvious! We've all seen it. Your face lights up every time he walks into the room. You're always looking for him in a crowd, and you spend as much time as you can around him. You're in love."

Rodimus squirmed. His best friend knew him too well. He turned back to him, grin returned. "You're right." Springer huffed air out while his smile broadened further. He shook his head, pleased. Now Rodimus had a new worry. He appealed to the blue optics that shone compassionately on him. "You won't tell anybody?"

"They already know. In fact..." Springer leaned over conspiratorially. "He loves you too."

Swoop must have told. That Dinobot had been so good about keeping secrets, WHY did he break down now? No, it was Prime's fault, he shouldn't have started this whole thing in the first place, it-

('_Wait an astro-second!')_

Swoop, who had been coloring and tuning out the conversations around him while he tried to give his drawing of Rodimus the proper shade of maroon, looked up at the Dinobot's collective gasp to see Springer pressing his lips into HIS Rodimus' face, kissing him like he OWNED him! All five stared.

The kissing continued too long. Grimlock leaned over to his warriors and whispered "Me Grimlock right. Rod-ee-moose Prime like all Autobots, he not care about us Dinobots." Sludge patted the poor Pteronadon sympathetically. Swoop leapt up and ran, abandoning his tools in his desperation to get out of there. Transforming into his Dinosaur mode, Swoop took to the air shrieking as he tried to fly out as fast as he could.

('_Springer. Springer. Springer. Springer?'_) It echoed in Rodimus' mind over and over again as his best friend's hand reached up to caress his face, kiss still going strong. ('_Springer!'_)

* * *

Now would be the time for The Matrix to say something, to tell its Prime to punch this green aggression across the face to get him to stop, something, _anything_, at least wake up the young mech from the fog that seemed to cling to his processor and keep him from making a rational decision. 

Rodimus Prime had never been pursued by anyone. Ever. His best friend making such a frank confession- and _proving_ it wasn't a joke beyond any doubt- did not shock him; it IMMOBILIZED him. Everything was a thick white nothingness as he tried to understand how anything so utterly impossible had sprung (_he HAD to be tired still, that seemed humorous too)_ up from nowhere. He and Springer had competed for the affections of certain individuals for some time now, knowing the tricks the other used, but the triple changer had a different kind of rotten luck from Rodimus'. He could attract his intended for a short enough amount of time to collect bragging rights. Rodimus never got any luck; at least Springer acquired his intended's attention.

He had Roddy's.

* * *

Snarl had the jacks ball in his hand as he watched an agitated Swoop run out. Something in his friend's expression saddened him as he turned back to the couple. After a moment, he put two and two together. Furious, the ball left his grip and bounced against Springer's head before any of them could react. 

"Hey!" Springer turned to see four Dinobots glaring. He grinned. Obviously they did not like to see affection, which was not a surprise. Perceptor had once told him the Dinobots were too primitive to know anything about love. This probably disgusted them. "We have an audience," he whispered as Rodimus nodded, still stunned and unfocused. He would have agreed to anything Springer said. "So let's go somewhere else." He tried to lighten his tone. "Your place or mine?"

Springer had, Arcee once confided in Prime, an amazing way of being easygoing in every aspect of his life but one. He was so charming no one could resist, even if they wanted to. Most of the time no one did. Rodimus Prime could not get the thrill of being kissed by his best friend out of his system, especially when Springer kept messaging his arm in concentric circles. Something was telling him to keep this Autobot under the radar until this whole thing was sorted out.

"Mine. My office." Rodimus had no intention of letting this mech into his private chambers. Springer grabbed his hand and led his Prime down the hall to smiles and cheers. ('_Was everyone in on this?_ _Since when had there been this kind of public expectation for Springer and me to hook up? Why was I the last to know?'_) Jazz was the only one who seemed uncomfortable seeing the pair. His sunny expression clouded over. Springer led Rodimus into his office and shut the door behind them, his hand reaching out for Prime.

As far as kissing went, Springer was good at some things and bad at others. It took Roddy a minute to realize he was being backed onto his own desk, where stacks of datapads waited to be read but were instead crashing to the ground as Springer swept them off. The mech had years of pent-up emotion that would now be poured onto his leader come Pit or acid rain. His hands were all over the dark red mech, little noises of happiness escaping in ecstatic intervals.

_('Nice'.)_

It _was_ nice, in that vague cloudy way mechs dream. Rodimus assumed this _was_ a dream, because his whole body buzzed warmly while his processor swam around a fog of bliss that real life never offered. Instead of the inky black and sapphire sacrosanct that he had become acclimated to, bright light and green metal softly caressed him with a twinge of longing that partly lifted him out of the fog to see a beaming tourmaline face. Springer smiled at him before kissing deeper.

Without warning Prime felt the hands on his rear end, hoisting him onto the desk. ('_Very nice'_.) Rodimus had thought of a similar move when he fantasized about taking Swoop in his office, but had been stumped as to what kind of excuse he could make to get the Dinobot in there-

The fog did not lift; instead he ran into the cliff of reality with an impact that shocked him out of his peaceful euphoria.

With all of the power The Matrix would allow Rodimus took both hands and shoved Springer away from him. The green mech landed in a tangle on the floor while Prime shouted "WHAT AM I _DOING_?"

Sitting up, Springer chuckled in amusement. "If you don't know, I'd be glad to show you."

"Springer!" This was not the time to be funny. How could he do this to Swoop? He put his head in his hands. "This is all wrong."

Confused, Springer checked to make sure Rodimus did not mean him. Apparently, he had. "Wow, Roddy, I'm sorry. I thought you wanted this." He snorted self-deprecatingly. "I know I did."

Rodimus looked away. He didn't. ('_Yeah,I do.'_) He was with Swoop. (_'Why did I like Springer's hands on me so much?'_) Now he looked at the green mech sprawled on the floor and wanted him so bad he could feel his spark glowing. ('_How well does Springer draw me in crayon?'_) But that could be only because of the lack of affection he was getting from Swoop. (_'That relationship seems to be cooling anyway.'_) Springer is his best friend. (_Who up until now I thought was with Arcee, my ex-sort-of-girlfriend who dumped me for this guy.'_) The conflict inside of him was growing exponentially as Springer slowly rose from the floor and approached Rodimus.

"This is probably a lot to take." He smiled at Roddy's over-emphasized nod. "I know, that since you're Prime, that this is not supposed to happen." Another nod. Springer lifted his fingers to trace Rodimus' neck at that vital spot he loved having touched (thank you, Arcee). He watched Prime squirm, fighting the inevitable. "I also know that you and I are the greatest of friends. This is no different than what we had before. I'm the same Autobot. We'll still joke around with each other, have fun, hang out. There may be a few changes in sleeping arrangements-" He got a snicker from his audience for that. Springer took it as a good sign and lowered his voice to a more seductive level. "but I'm sure that won't be a big deal. You've loved me all your life, Roddy. If you could only allow it to happen. Just shut off your optics...and..." he was about to kiss him again. "...let it go..."

"Rodimus Prime! Come in!" Ultra Magnus's voice erupted from the TV on Prime's desk, facing away from the couple. Rodimus pushed his way out of the embrace with a mix of relief and disappointment.

"I have to take this," he explained curtly as he hurried to answer his call. "Rodimus Prime here. What is it, Ultra Magnus?"

"Has Blurr reported to you what happened to the Aerialbots?" Prime looked at the scattered datapads strewn about the floor and mentally cursed himself for allowing a delay in his efficiency.

"He has...but I haven't been able to read it yet. I asked him to put it on a datapad."

Ultra Magnus scowled. "There was a reason I wanted you to hear it from him, sir. It was lengthy and detailed."

"I can deduce most of it if you give me a summary NOW and save me the trouble." ('_This is not a good day to be bossy with me,.'_) The recollection of the earlier table conversation made him smile, taking the sharpness out of his words.

"Someone is depleting the energy sources of a 'Dinobot Island', causing time portals to open all over the globe. I am sending out various strike teams to push the inhabitants of these portals back to where they came from and close said openings, but I'm having trouble finding your air commander."

That would be Springer, who was leaning over the desk as though he expected Prime to materialize back into his arms at any moment. "I believe I see him walking past my door now. Springer! Ultra Magnus wants you."

"Not as bad as I want you," he countered, ignoring Rodimus' annoyance. Ultra Magnus heard it, but chose to follow protocol by signing off without acknowledging it.

Rodimus Prime scowled. "Report to Ultra Magnus. Dismissed." Springer saluted and walked out, leaving Prime to sink into his chair and try to ignore the wish that Ultra Magnus had not called.

* * *

Portal repair continued into the next seven days while the history, location, and cause/effect relationship of Dinobot Island was studied. The island was not found as of yet, and since The Ark had exploded to fragments a year ago the coordinates of many Decepticon attacks went with its demise. Perceptor, who should have known something about this but for some reason DIDN'T (Rodimus guessed he was still recovering from a processor wipe Galvatron gave him a few months back) recommended sending the Dinobots as scouts, as soon as someone could find them. They were Absent Without Leave, as of ten-thirty in the morning last week. He paced his office as reports poured in regarding what search teams had discovered, but both the Dinobots and their island namesake were nowhere to be found. 

"Relax, Roddy," Springer drawled from Prime's office chair, his feet swinging off from resting on the desk. "Knowing those trouble-makers, they probably ran out for some goofing off and they'll come back when they feel like it. They'll probably come in a back door, just to mess with us." Springer looked very comfortable in this place. Like he belonged here. There would be nothing easier than the temptation to follow the triple-changer's lead and doff Swoop like a bad Cybertron Academy romance. Who would be the wiser? Springer had an innocent facial expression that made Rodimus' circuits fire a little faster. The look disappeared when he patted his green lap and smirked. "Now come over here and tell Santa what you want for Christmas."

Something _that_ ridiculous put the brakes on the circuit firing, thank Primus. It was incredibly obvious how Springer got/scared away his mates. Rodimus lightly whacked him on the back of the head. "You're in my chair," he said in a playful voice he didn't feel. "Besides, you've got stuff you need to be doing right now." Springer stood up, smiling, and walked outside to see Ultra Magnus in the hall.

"The Aerialbots are ready for you to take them out to scout the South Pacific," the giant mech gave as preamble. "How did your conference with Rodimus go?"

The triple-changer shrugged. "He's ignoring me unless I'm physically in his way. Can you talk to him?" The easy-going mech usually took things in stride, but Roddy was a tough wingnut to loosen. Ultra Magnus might help. He owed Springer a few favors. Nodding in agreement, Ultra Magnus quietly closed the door behind him as he entered Rodimus' domain.

"Prime?" Rodimus did not respond to that particular honorific sometimes, as was the case now. He was reading Metroplex's attendance records for every entryway passed through in the city, and noticed that NO door went unchecked. Including personal chambers. Prime erased Swoop's chamber records as he heard his name uttered again.

"Ultra Magnus!"

"What are you doing?" Ultra Magnus sat down with permission, placing the datapad he carried onto the desk. He was used to bossing Roddy around and obeying Optimus, but forgetting certain protocol never happened.

"Following a hunch. It didn't go anywhere." The Dinobots had not returned. "What do you have for me?"

"Two days ago you promoted Jazz to help Red Alert with security. Today he found a pattern."

"Really?" (_'Don't let this be what I think it is.'_)

"Up until a few weeks ago someone was using your codes to break into private doors."

('_It is. It took Swoop a long time to trust me enough to leave the door unlocked'._) "I know, Ultra Magnus. What about it?"

Ultra Magnus gave a startled glance. "This same code was used at eleven hundred hours last week to enter Metroplex from a side entrance. The security cameras show the Dinobots, except that the code was also used at fifteen-hundred hours today to access your own private chambers but there is no footage of that."

"You're telling me you think the Dinobots used MY code to break in to my room? Where are they?" So Springer had been right. And Prime had been so wound up over Swoop's records to notice any side entrance notes.

"No, they haven't. We found the Dinobots with Wreck-Garr on Junk, an hour ago. SOMEBODY else has been using it."

"Slag." Just what he needed. "Change my code, and then set up an alarm to catch anyone who uses my old one."

"Right."

"I'll inspect my chambers myself and compare it with inventory, to see what's missing. Oh, and get the Dinobots to come back here. If they put up a fight, tell them I ordered them to come back." Prime stood up to signal the end of the interview. Ultra Magnus remained sitting. "Something wrong, Magnus?"

"What do you think has upset the Dinobots enough to assume you have to give them an order?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with," Roddy retorted. He could have feigned ignorance but for some unknown reason, he did not. His guilt over Swoop had put him on the defensive.

The large soldier remained gravely silent for a moment. "Would it concern Springer?"

Rodimus glared. Everyone was desperate to make him go to Springer! Prime still didn't know. He liked having him as a friend, but the Springer who wanted more seemed different. Authoritative. It was confusing, and Rodimus hoped that spending an evening talking to Swoop would settle things, as it always did. He would be back before the end of the day if the Dinobots were given an order. Rodimus may not like most trappings of Prime but there was a nice feeling of control when an order was obeyed. Perhaps proper deference had its moments. "Seeing as how neither issue has been assigned to you, and we have more pressing matters at hand, I don't know. Anything else?"

"Yes." Ultra Magnus stood, now that he had been thoroughly offended. Rodimus had always come to him for whatever problem, big or small, and this brusque dismissal was out of character, not to mention hurtful. "Get some sleep, for once." He walked out before Prime could process the hidden meaning in the saddened voice of his mentor.

* * *

The only thing missing from Rodimus Prime's room were a few drawings Swoop had made for him. The Autobot leader reported what was gone and signed off, claiming recharge but setting his internal alarm for midnight, when almost everyone was offline. The Dinobots were back and Rodimus planned to take advantage of it. As he crept down to the bottom of Metroplex Rodimus allowed his thoughts to wander. Some part of him wondered if he could keep both friend and Dinobot, but his sense of decency forbade it. He wanted to be with the larger blue mech, and his processing concentrated on that. Mostly, his thoughts focused on Swoop. He missed him. He missed sinking into his arms and forgetting everything around him. He wanted to be told to hold still while Swoop put lines of nobility around his forehead (not the Dinobot's exact wording). He liked simple, direct, non-thought-provoking opinions and someone who didn't expect everything he said to be sound advice. He got all of this from one mech. One mech who had locked his door. 

Rodimus inspected the shoulder and spoiler that had made this discovery for damage and knocked softly. "Swoop?" he asked, as low a tone as he dared. No reply. There were ways around this. Rodimus decided to use Prime prerogative and physically typed in his NEW code to unlock the door. It opened quickly to reveal the light on and Grimlock waiting for him.

"Rod-ee-moose Prime." The tone was respectful but assertive.

"Grimlock. Where is Swoop?"

"He not here."

('_I KNOW THAT!'_) Rodimus kept his countenance calm. "Where is he?"

The fierce warrior faceplate that this potent Dinobot wielded did not frighten Rodimus at all. The tone was a little disconcerting, though. "Me Grimlock say, HE not HERE." Grimlock stood up and walked past his guest, motioning for him to follow. Rodimus complied after a moment's hesitation, down the brightly lit hallways and up the stairs to the Dinobot rumpus room that still smelled like a fresh coat of paint. On the north wall was a shelf. As Rodimus waited, Grimlock walked over to this metal wall bracket and pulled some things out of subspace, talking as he put them down.

"Us Dinobots have no secrets," he intoned as he held up the picture of Rodimus and Swoop flying together. Swoop had made two; this must be his copy. Prime's was still missing. "Me Grimlock glad you Rod-ee-moose use dis-dis...smarts and keep love quiet. You not good Prime if you not smart." Grimlock produced a small, heart-shaped brown rock and gently placed it on the shelf. Rodimus waited. Grimlock, like the other Dinobots, often had deep insight buried in their halting rhetoric, like an energon cube hiding on Junk.

"You not smart with Swoop in other ways. You not realize greatness that is Dinobot. Us Dinobots do everything great! We fight great! We think great!" His yelling stopped when Roddy told him he was too loud. "We love great." Here he placed an old, tattered tape, the size Blaster could use, on the shelf. "Dinobot love forever. No matter how hard love is-" Grimlock produced some shattered metal splinters, carefully tied together, and placed it next to the heart-shaped rock. The splinters were a black Cybertronian metal, looking old but steady. That particular kind looked like the same material as Optimus' handgun, but the various scratches suggested it had been around longer. "-us Dinobots love harder."

"You've all had somebody?" There may be no secrets AMONG the Dinobots, but outside of their group their silence was steadfast. No wonder no Decepticon could torture anything out of them!

"Now Swoop." The bitterness in his voice made Rodimus recall that there were Dinobots in the commissary that morning all of this had gone down. Why hadn't he realized it before...

"Did Swoop see Springer and me..." he couldn't finish the thought. Grimlock's immobile face radiated disapproval. Primus, he hadn't even noticed! "I need to talk to him."

"NO! You Rod-ee-moose Prime bad for Swoop! No good!"

The maroon mech was desperate. He had to talk to Swoop, to straighten this mess out, to explain to him that Springer meant nothing CLOSE to what it seemed, and that...that... "Grimlock, let me see him." The Dinobot shook his head. "Grimlock! Don't make me give you another order!"

The Dinobot leader was a formidable opponent for a reason, one made obvious when he transformed into Tyrannosaurus Rex. "You Rod-ee-moose leave Swoop alone! Or ELSE!"

The door banged behind them. "Grimlock? Rodimus? What's going on?"

The large Dinobot, now with a more expressive mode, snorted contemptuously. "Boyfriend call."

Rodimus scowled. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Is now."

Springer, once allowed in, gave them a strange look, one bordering on jealousy. "Is everything okay?" Rodimus nodded, explaining how Grimlock was trying to recall how to get to Dinobot Island. "That's why I've been trying to radio you! We found it!" Prime reluctantly turned his attention to the situation, wincing at the realization that he'd locked Springer's frequency out to avoid him.

Springer explained where it was, and that scouts would be needed to peruse the area for whatever was causing the energy malfunction. The ideal team was obvious, although sending Swoop out without being able to fix the problem here set Rodimus' solenoids off-kilter. He felt ill at the idea. Still, he had a responsibility...

Sigh. "Grimlock, when can the Dinobots leave?"

The giant lizard smiled as craftily as his crocodile relative. "Us Dinobots leave now! Me Grimlock go get them." Grimlock left with a menacing stare that obviously warned them not to follow him. Rodimus mentally sighed again and walked over to the relics on the shelf.

"That 'bot gets stranger every time I see him. Roddy?" Rodimus jumped, hoping Springer hadn't seen him hide Swoop's crayon drawing. Springer regarded him carefully. "What's going on with you and Grimlock?"

Rodimus allowed a chuckle. The suspicion exhibited by the triple changer was strange to see, especially over such an irritating mech. "Nothing. I thought I could talk some sense into him about the trouble he's caused lately, but it didn't work." Springer seemed relieved. "Why?"

"It's crazy, but..." he gestured wildly. "I don't know, it seems like you and he are a lot closer than you act." Springer smiled sheepishly, almost asking for forgiveness but demanding an explanation at the same time.

Rodimus looked into his blue optics, wishing he didn't know the triple changer's behaviors and unspoken communications as well as he did. "There is NOTHING going on between us." ('_Do I mean that for Grimlock or you, Springer? Even I don't know that.'_)

The green mech smiled even wider, showing Roddy that he was very handsome, especially when his fears were laid to rest. He held his hand out for Rodimus to take as they walked out. Roddy wished Mirage had never started this stupid trend; he felt fettered. The touch from this charismatic being excited him at the same time, though. (_'So easy. All I have to do is walk alongside him and let him win. Forget how much it bothers me to let him be the boss. No more hiding, no more fear, no more guilt over Swoop. Never mind that I need him.')_ Any Autobot they passed smiled at them sweetly, one of them muttering 'finally!' under his breath as he receded down the hall. Springer's quarters were closer than Prime's so that turning to say goodnight without some kind of invitation was inevitable. ('_I have to say no, even if I kind of don't want to._')

"What if I promised I wouldn't try anything?" Springer asked mischievously, head tilted at an appealing angle. (_'I should have known he would make this difficult. Why can't he be ugly?'_)

"You know I don't believe that." Prime tried to release his hands from Springer's grip and found that he couldn't. The triple changer shook his head, grinning as he pulled an almost-willing Rodimus inside. The flame-patterned mech's spoiler hit the sides of the door with a clang.

"Sorry, buddy." Springer had not stopped pulling. He didn't let go of Rodimus until they were both on his recharge plate. Springer started kissing him again. "Nobody needs you until tomorrow-" he laughed at himself. "-except for me. Now come here, lie down..." Rodimus could feel his resolve slipping away as he was pushed into a more horizontal position. It was so nice to be touched like that. Springer was a powerful enchanter. Still, Prime tried to fight it, although he thought he didn't want to anymore. Grimlock's angry accusations seemed to make sense. Maybe he SHOULDN'T be with a Dinobot. The dreamlike trance slipped over him again, taking him by surprise like a quick fall evening after months of long summer nights.

"Springer-"

"RELAX. I won't do anything...except for maybe this." He was hitting those places on Roddy's chestplate that loved to be toyed with. Rodimus feebly tried to brush him off, but a tingling sensation was growing. It was too much. Even in the rush of desire something still nagged at him.

(_'Why am I here?')_

_(**Because your drive to get laid is superseding your morality sensors**._) That was not his thought. The Matrix was talking to him, at long last. (_**Get out of there, Rodimus**._) Springer had pulled him over to lay on top and allowed Rodimus to hold his hands down while that soft spot where the green mech's chin jutted out was attended to. ('_Thank you, Arcee.'_) Springer was calling his name so loud Roddy couldn't hear anything, which was delightful. (_'Good Primus, where did he learn to do THAT?'_)

(_**Roddy**!)_

('_Stupid Matrix_.') Roddy wished he could turn it off as his conscience slipped. ('_Where did the phrase "get laid" come from? Oh yeah, Springer, right there...Oh.'_) He clenched the green mech's hands hard while Springer's legs wrapped around him and squeezed back. It was like melting into a puddle, or being too euphoric after guzzling spiked energon. (**_You'll be sorry._**) ('_I'm already sorry. All I want to do is-Oh here it comes-'_) He could feel everything rattling as Springer moaned under him.

Someone pounded on the door. "Slag it all to the pit!" snarled Springer, his first curse words in vorns. "WHAT?" he hollered at the door.

"Springer? Where's Rodimus? It's Arcee! We've got trouble!" Only the pink female, the one who'd answered their covert questions concerning her ex-significant others' anatomies, would be allowed to interrupt. Rodimus rolled off of Springer and staggered to the door. Their pileup would have to be postponed.

"What is it?" he asked, voice barely civil as he confronted the warrior. She looked upset.

"The Quintessons have kidnapped the Dinobots!"

(_'Swoop!')_

(**_We told you so._**)


	2. Footsteps in the Hallway

There's a moment when I'm about to transform when I'm in the air, weightless. Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine times out of a million, I become a helicopter and soar into the air, or a car that races down the road kicking up dust. The one time I didn't transform I landed on my face, painfully aware that something had gone wrong.

This is how I feel now, laying on my recharge plate listening to Rodimus Prime's footsteps as he races out of my room to find Ultra Magnus after Arcee told him that the Dinobots have been kidnapped by Quintessons. He did not tell me where he was going, did not apologize for not completing what we'd started; instead he left me here with my entire body singing like the wires on a suspension bridge in the wind. How can you be in the brink of an energy field explosion and run out the door, leaving your partner tightly wound? He's insane!

Arcee is the guilty bearer of bad news. She's a sweet 'bot, apologizing for interrupting and vowing to fix the situation. I lifted my head up to see her adjusting the polarity on her blaster, which is a poor substitute but has helped us out a few times when she couldn't finish me off. When it's programmed like that, she can use it to shoot me back to normal. "Good. You owe me," I kidded, glad to be getting something out of this.

"If you're referring to that time you pulled me out of a Decepticon Territory skirmish by blowing away the drones with one of those nasty wind tunnels you make, I already thanked you – twice." She straddled me to get a better shot. "I don't understand it, Springer. Rodimus ran out of here like Starscream was behind him. How did you manage that?" She can list the number of flings/one-night stands/problem lovers I've had from memory, because in every single one of them she had to bail me out. This one is no exception. Roddy was not cool doing that. Still, I guess I can give him a chance to redeem himself, if this is a misunderstanding. Arcee has told me more than once that my jealousy is what really scares them off. Roddy acted irritated when I questioned him about Grimlock, so maybe I need to back off before somebody gets hurt.

Speaking of hurt, Arcee is about to put me in a world of pain/pleasure. I raise my forehead ridges to give her a sarcastically amused expression. "It's a curse. I guess I used up all of my luck on you, honey," I reply as the gun fries my circuits and allows a great blue light to consume me.

* * *

When I could finally get up and walk normally I joined the others at the command center as they watched our leader lose his mind. Ultra Magnus, Kup, Arcee, Wheelie, Blurr, and Daniel stood in a semi-circle, mouths open in mute horror as Rodimus changed radio channels as quickly as Blurr could have in his search for...whatever. 

"Hey," I greeted them, regarding Rodimus suspiciously. He ignored me. "Is he running on all cylinders?"

"Nope," countered Kup. "Something made him snap. Reminds me of the brain drain virus on Cepo-four..."

Ultra Magnus waved me inside of the cluster he and Kup made on Roddy's right. Giving Arcee a secret signal, she maneuvered Daniel and company to the other side of the room while I first attempted to give my friend a light-hearted wake-up call.

"Roddy...it's Springer." I gently shook his shoulder. He didn't move, except for pushing the button to change radio channels. "Rodimus?"

"Ultra Magnus, have you assembled the Autobots yet?" he finally growled.

"I have everyone on alert, Prime, but I thought it better if we waited for their broadcast." Quintessons always like to brag about the hostages they take. Magnus was following wartime protocol. Rodimus scowled deeper and continued flipping. It was as though he hadn't heard a word we said. He jumped up from his seat, optics glowing in a crazy light pattern. "That's it! I need a strategist! Get me Prowl!"

He glared at all of us, wanting to know what we were staring at. Prowl would know what to do; go get him!

"Prowl's dead," murmured a voice behind us belonging to somebody I hadn't noticed was here until now. Roddy turned to Jazz, expression wilder than ever.

"What would he say?" Roddy gasped. Jazz shrugged.

"Something logical."

He grabbed Jazz's shoulders and started shaking him as hard as he could. "You have half his mind! What would he do? Where can I find the Quintessons? I have to get him back! Hey!" He turned to us, optics a scary shade of light blue, almost white. "Let's bring Prowl back to life! We have the technology, don't we? Kup?" Daniel, who had witnessed all of this and didn't understand it, began bawling. Arcee lead him away while Ultra Magnus decided to intervene.

"I think we'd better let you go back to finding the frequency they might be using, Prime." He gently sat Rodimus down to return to changing channels. Ultra Magnus jerked his thumb towards the corner, beckoning us to follow him there. Once all of us grouped together he whispered, "We can't let anyone see him like this. Wheelie, take Daniel home and stay with him. Blurr, you're on damage control. The official story is that everyone needs to be on alert because the negotiations with the Quintessons over Dinobot Island are taking longer than expected."

"Right! Icandothat,that'seasyI'llgotelleveryonerightnow..." He was out the door before we could tell him to stop talking. The giant mech turned back to his congregation.

"I can handle our line of defense. Arcee and Kup will keep Rodimus out of trouble. Springer, you're in charge of running the city."

"WHAT?" How did this happen? "Me? Why?"

"Well, there's an old Cybertronian rule that if no second-in-command has been established, like now, then Prime's consort gets first refusal." Kup nodded in agreement.

"I'm flattered," I said. Really, I was. "But technically, I'm not his consort." One night of fun does not make a relationship. I learned that the hard way.

"Without going into details, are you _sure_?" Kup asked urgently. "We need someone to help us keep a front going and you're our only hope."

"I'll do it," I said, still unsettled at the idea of me running an entire legion of Autobots. "But I want help." I gestured to Jazz. "You used to be one of Optimus' higher-ups, right?"

"Until the regime change," he said, smile forming from his joke.

"Can you help me out?" I asked, smiling back. I barely knew the guy, since he'd been absent for a long time before settling down on earth for semi-retirement, but already I liked his sense of humor.

"Sure. Red Alert will be glad I'm out of his space." That settled, Jazz and I made our way out, with Ultra Magnus' authoritative voice in the background telling Roddy to let Blaster handle communications, and Rodimus FINALLY replying that he'd do whatever he wanted, he was Prime.

"Man!" I exclaimed, shaking my head. "Have you ever seen that before?"

"No," Jazz said, breaking our duo to allow First Aid passage on his way to the control room. "Prime was protective of all of his Autobots, within reason. The only time anybody saw him go crazy was the day Elita-1 died..." Realization of something big crossed Jazz's face. "Oh...slag..." he gasped, taking off to the hallway on his left.

"The office is this way!" I called. Where is he going?

"C'mon! I can explain!" Jazz was known for his speed, so I had a little trouble following him. I could've sprung my way over, but the hallways don't give me enough height so I had to settle on a mild jog. When I finally thought I might have lost him I saw that the door to the surveillance room was open and he was inspecting some records while Red Alert protested.

"I tell you, they were there the last time I checked!"

"They were, Red-dy," Jazz replied gently. "Somebody's erased them."

"Erased what?" I asked, trying to see what it was. Red Alert, always suspicious, told me to back up before I saw something I wasn't supposed to. Jazz assured him it was allowable.

"Springer, we have record of every room you've been in since the day you got here," Jazz explained. "That goes for every Autobot. Some of Roddy's...uh..."

"Nocturnal extracurricular activities," supplied Red Alert.

"Thanks, Perceptor," Jazz laughed. "Rodimus was walkin' after midnight, and we knew who it was, but someone erased the records that prove it. The other thing we noticed, and don't tell anybody," Jazz's voice lowered. "The reason why I got assigned to this security gig is that Mr. Workaholic here went offline one night and a spy got into Metroplex using Roddy's old codes."

"It was an accident," protested Red.

"Proves you're human," Jazz ribbed, patting Red on the back. "Anyway, when Rodimus got around to telling us what the spy took from his room - a few pictures the Dinobots drew for him - I didn't put it together until..." He had that look again.

"Jazz, you're confusing me." I said. "What is it?"

Red Alert got it. "They found out Rodimus had a favorite. I don't know how Dinobot Island is a part of this, but the Quintessons somehow knew he'd send the Dinobots over there to investigate, and they used that to capture Prime's...paramour. Ultra Magnus should know this." He stood up and radioed the control room to tell them he was on his way to make a report.

"Are you telling me Roddy is in love with GRIMLOCK!" I collapsed into a nearby chair. Jazz squirmed. "I mean, I knew he wasn't that into me, but I-ah-A DINOBOT!" Those stupid, war-like MORONS and the greatest guy ever was nuts about HIM, not me. "It doesn't make any sense! I'm his best friend! I'm a nice guy, and I'm decent looking, right?" Jazz nodded. "We get along, we've known each other forever, and there wasn't much of it, but the affection was good...and... c'mon, him and a _Dinobot_? That makes no sense!" I was still in shock, with no idea what I was saying. "He and I...that's just...a lot more logical."

Here Jazz stood up. "You shouldn't be in a relationship because it's logical." He moved over to the control tower, focused on some camerawork. Jazz worked on adjusting a camera in the commissary but I heard the tone and somewhere in my agitation it actually pierced my enraged processor and I heard what he was trying to say. "If 'bots get into something because it makes sense, or people want them to, but don't have any other reason, what happens when they join their sparks and find out they're incompatible? You can't separate after that." The older saboteur fiddled with the camera over Rodimus' private quarters. He said no more, and neither did I, languishing in an embarrassed silence until Red Alert came in, more upset than he was when he left.

"Didn't go well?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Rodimus tried to chase me out with his blaster. He kept calling me 'Dead End.' It took awhile for the others to calm him down." Red Alert waited for me to get out of his chair and returned to his monitoring. "That is all the excitement I care to have in one day. I believe you have your own work." We said good-bye and walked to Roddy's office, still mute. Jazz punched in Roddy's 'new' code and let me in.

Everywhere I looked there were datapads. Jazz explained that all of these needed some kind of attention, whether it be a reply, a stamp, or filing. I also needed to check Roddy's e-mail for various reports from each faction. War-related went to Ultra Magnus. Personal was to be ignored, marked unopened. Anything related to the activity in Metroplex had to be taken care of.

"Sounds thrilling." I was bored already.

"It gets better. Since we don't know what's going on, most of these will make as much sense as watching the last 15 minutes of episode 33 of Gundam Wing."

"Which one?" I asked, cursing myself for knocking these all to the floor the other day. Jazz chuckled.

"Mobile Suit. I didn't know you were into that."

"I knew there were a lot of them. The only one I've seen is Mobile Suit."

"Cool. So anyway, I think the first thing we can do is sort. Then I'll know where we are and I can find a few shortcuts." He grinned mischievously. I told him it worked for me. He produced a boom box from subspace and asked if I minded. It depended on the music. I'm not as familiar with earth culture as he is, and I didn't mind Jazz doing what made him happy, but some earth music doesn't sit well with me. Through a process of elimination we found out I hated rap, was not thrilled with funk, kind of liked country, but when he played a sample of "Sweet Emotion" I was hooked. He played every Aerosmith song he had, and I loved them all. He tried to play other stuff, and that was cool, but I heavily favored Aerosmith.

C'mon, man! There's more to it than that!" We had piled everything up chronologically and were reading the most recent editions, figuring the rest was old news and would be more for reference. "Do you dance?"

I dragged my optics away from the fascinating words of the Aerialbots' secret complaint to Rodimus about my authority style to see Jazz dancing to some song that kept repeating the phrase "**We want the funk**." He looked like his CPU had gone crazy, the way he jerked his body around.

"You try it!" he called. I stood up from Roddy's desk and hopped a little on my feet, feeling stupid. He changed the song to something faster-paced. "**You can do it put your back into it**!" he chanted with the throaty-voiced female, arms gyrating. It reminded me of a fighting move.

Without warning, smiling to myself, I leaped over the desk, grabbed one of his arms, and spun him 180 degrees so that his back was facing me. "If I did that, and you shot at whatever was behind me, they'd never see it coming."

"Yes they would!"

"Not if we were doing THIS at the same time!" I twirled both of us, then spun him, and then rotated myself so that our backs were covered, all to the provided beat. I could hear his laugh.

"You're not a bad choreographer. Here, try this." Telling me to hold still, he stood on the desk and dove in between my feet and shot at whatever was coming up behind me. Taking the hint I turned around, jumped over him and shot the invisible threat that he'd missed while he sat up and shot the spot I'd just left. He was about to show me a dual-kick move he saw in a Jackie Chan movie when the door knocked. "Enter!" he called, while I hurried back to work.

The Aerialbots rushed in like a happy group of partygoers bearing a keg. "Hey!" they easily greeted us. Silverbolt was missing.

Slingshot began to talk as the others settled in and offered to help us read stuff. I subspaced the report they were looking for behind my back while telling them "sure." What was a little classified information among Autobots?

"We wanted to see if what they were saying was true," he commented, getting comfortable.

"What are they saying?" Jazz asked.

"That Rodimus has gone off the deep end and Boyfriend here is our new Prime."

So much for damage control. Blurr, Wheelie, and Daniel couldn't keep a secret if two of them were dead. "Actually, Jazz is in charge."

"Right. Then why are you sitting at his desk?" Slingshot doesn't miss a trick.

"Jazz is humble." Jazz gave an angelic expression that fooled only Air Raid, because he was barely paying attention in his hurry to find the missing datapad. "I'm not doing much, just the office part."

"So you're the office Prime?" broke in Fireflight. We laughed at that.

"OfficeMax Prime!" chortled Jazz, referring to a human business name. That was funny.

"Right. OfficeMax Prime and the Widow are taking over!" cracked Slingshot in one-upmanship. That was not funny. Jazz's grin stayed but he asked a confused 'what?' over the reaction. I decided to rid us of these flying pests.

"C'mon, guys. We're just filling in for Rodimus while he negotiates with the Quints, that's all. I would hate to 'overstep' my 'boundaries of authority claiming connections that are, for the most part, null in the sky,' right?" That got their attention. Air Raid and Skydive put down the datapads and stood up, sheepishly grinning, while Slingshot gave me a quizzical look.

"Right..." he began puzzled, but Fireflight interrupted.

"We'd better leave you alone. So, we'll see you later?" he asked, pushing the others out the door.

"Right!" I said, glad they were leaving. Jazz silently turned back to his work. "Did you want to show me that move?"

"Forget it," he said, no longer smiling and the tone dismissive. "We've got work to do."

I said 'right' again and went back to my reading, annoyed with the Aerialbots. Those I associate with may not interact much with this mech, but everyone talks about everyone else around here and there's not much I don't hear about, even if I didn't _know_ anything about him. Jazz doesn't mind any nicknames you give him, but to remind him on a daily basis that his sparkmate is gone is a bad moniker, at any time. I thought they'd forgotten that one. I wanted to say something to Jazz, but what? Instead I went back to work.

For about five minutes. Jazz's silence is worse than Jazz's rap. I'd rather take the noisy one. "Let's go," I ordered, opening the office door.

"Where?" he asked, sounding relieved. My guess is he hates the quiet as much as I do.

"You know where. I want to see you put your back into it."

* * *

The practice facility was empty for once. The echo of our voices reverberated over the walls, the mats, the battle ring, even the metal doors that closed behind us with a clang. I handed him one of the fighting bo staffs we use for combat training and told him to pick a song, any song, as long as we could fight to it. This brought back the smile. To humor me, he played a song with a lot of emphasis on the word '**war**.' It was an old seventies song, he explained.

I got the feeling Jazz didn't think much of my combat skills. The song had a lot of pauses and few tempo changes. His frequent defensive stance was another clue. He could do better, there was no doubt about that. Jazz was a legend in his own time, showing brilliance when he was fighting Decepticons, aliens, or a giant planet, using his wits. Jazz was above mere defense posturing, and I knew I had to bring out the aggression. The next song he picked was a faster tempo with a lot of screaming about being welcomed to a jungle. Jazz gave a few more half-hearted taps.

"Quit trying to hit me and HIT me!" I goaded, jumping backwards against the wall I let him corner me into. The strength of the push woke him up and the smile widened.

"I know K'ung Fu," he riposted in a dull voice, finally getting into it. He played a song where a female screamed about loving herself today, not like yesterday. It was fast and energetic. So was Jazz. I got struck more than expected, which was what I was trying to accomplish in the first place.

Two distractions happened at once: Jazz picked a LOUD song and Bumblebee wandered in to check out the noise. Once he saw what we were doing he ran out.

"He's going to get our audience," Jazz commented, never breaking stride as he alternated ends of the bo for me to block in perfect time to '**I can't feeeeel the way I did before, don't turn your back on me, I won't be ignored.'**

"Maybe they'll like this stuff better," I grunted, whacking my partner in the knees and getting no reaction. "How can you anticipate what I'll be doing through all of that screaming?"

"Don't listen with your audios, man, listen with your processor." Jazz ducked my swing and tried to get my legs but I succeeded in jumping over him, and fitting in a flip for fun. He chuckled. "Cool."

"It's not as tame as your usual stuff." I rotated the staff to send a wind to whack him back. "I thought you liked-you know-_jazz_."

"Hey, I can change my tastes," he explained, running through the wind to come after me. "I'm definitely counting on changing YOURS."

He was defeated in more moves than I thought I needed. "So what do you hear in that song?" I asked him, contemplating my next move as he changed CDs.

"The frustration. The love. The anger. When something bothers you, there's a song to tell you you're not alone. You never have to scream when music can do it for you." I nodded, waiting for the hook on the R & B song to establish itself before closing in on my target. The door opened and closed but no one came in. In this song the girl asked **what about us**? Yeah, what about us? Why didn't Roddy say something when I told him how I felt about him? I thought the mech who told Galvatron to his face to rust in space could at least tell his best friend 'sorry buddy, I'm not into you,' but apparently not. I was a fool.

He seemed to appreciate me, at times...at least Arcee and Kup thought so. They were the ones who suggested we get together. I was all for that, Primus knows why, since in retrospect there really wasn't anything between us to indicate we were intimately connected other than light-hearted innuendoes and banter. Something must have changed in my fighting style because Jazz alleviated his defense and asked me if I was still bitter about Rodimus.

"Who me? Nah." I hit Jazz's staff so hard it broke in half. We called a time-out.

The black and white mech unhurriedly chose his replacement weapon. "The name of the game is to find a love that outlives you. If you're lucky, you get that. If you're normal, you don't. See, both of us are normal."

I shook my head as he re-entered the ring. "I don't feel normal."

"That's normal enough." He didn't get to finish because whoever had peeked in on us earlier brought back all of the mini-bots, the Aerialbots, and the Protectobots to watch us. The Lamborghini brothers were there, too, taunting us as fast as the wisecracks could go and nearly doubling me over a couple of times. Jazz grinned. "Ready to put on a show?" he asked, brandishing his bo.

"Give it to me, now." I challenged, staff ready. Jazz laughed.

"Good idea," he chuckled, CD beginning another rap song. Our onlookers cheered. The words took me by surprise, especially since the mini-bots chanted along with it.

"What IS this?" I demanded, flinging him over my shoulder. Jazz rolled out of my way before I could whack him with the bo.

"It's Ludacris," he explained, back on his feet.

"No kidding!" A perfect word for it, it was _definitely_ ludicrous. Who sings about licking and fantasies? Jazz liked it; he was perfectly aligned with the rhythm of the words. The mini-bots were getting rowdier.

"I got him to autograph my CD," he bragged, jumping to kick me in the face and grazing my shoulder as I pulled away in time, reaching to hit him while he flew by. The mini-bots went nuts.

"**I wanna get you in the back seat windows up, that's the way you like to**-Ooooh!" they stopped their yelling to see me knock Jazz hard enough to loosen a few bolts and keep him down. He looked at the business end of my bo with a wicked beam of delight.

"Peace!" he called, capitulating.

I held my hand out to help him up. "You let me win."

Jazz dragged me to the floor and rolled on top of me, grabbing my bo from where I'd dropped it and pinning my head down with it, by the throat. "You're right," he sang while our fans rushed in. I could only laugh. Jazz the legend had come out in all his splendid, sneaky, fantastic glory.

"Who's next?" I called, responses drowning out anything detectable. "How about a double team?" I offered. There was a moment of scrabbling as they tried to pair up.

"Let's go," Slingshot called, with Skydive looming behind him holding bos. "I get the Widow."

All of my careful work undone. Jazz didn't let on. We exchanged glances and shrugged, CD cueing up to play a song I hadn't been too fond of the first time he played it. Now the words haunted me as Slingshot started talking smack.

"So what's so great about you, old man?" he jeered as the song howled '**I cannot take this any more.'** Jazz didn't cringe. We nodded to each other peripherally and attacked. The Aerialbots were ready.

As the song continued, the fighting went well enough. Skydive did nothing special and I had him down before the song was half over. Slingshot and Jazz were another story. The younger mech was trying everything he could to unnerve Jazz.

"You do the same move every thirty seconds! I can't believe Springer didn't notice!" '**All these thoughts they make no sense, I found bliss in ignorance. Nothing seems to go away, over and over again.'**

One of the things Slingshot didn't bother to compute was that maybe it was a part of Jazz's plan to fight monotonously until a moment came when the mech wouldn't see his comeuppance until it was too late. **'Shut up when I'm talking to you!'**

Jazz didn't stop smiling. He let the song lose its cool, instead of him, felling Slingshot and keeping him on his front with an arm twisted behind his wing by the time the song shouted its final **'break!'** The Aerialbot never saw it coming.

"Springer spent his time strategizing, not complaining." He let Slingshot stand up to hoots and hollers. "Maybe next time," he grinned, shaking hands with the loser and his begrudging smile. Nobody bests Jazz.

"Us next!" the mini-bots called.

* * *

We did this until ten, explaining our duties as OfficeMax Prime had to be fulfilled. Around midnight my partner in crime abandoned me, claiming another task at hand at six am. Around two I couldn't read another datapad, so I went up to the control room to check up on Rodimus Prime: Dinobot-lover. 

I shouldn't be jealous. Rodimus has the right to be with anyone he wants, even if they are stupid Autobots assembled by a no-talent mad scientist and a human. Even though I've been around since practically his creation, giving him support when he needed it, even when we found out he was the Chosen One and no longer Hot Rod, fun on wheels.

I guess I'm _still_ jealous. Well, if I really _were_ Roddy's best friend, I would let this go, chalk it up to experience, and be there for him, no matter how much it hurts. Believe me, it hurts. No one should find out from _Red Alert_ that the mech they've always been fond of is in love with someone else.

All thoughts of resentment flew out of me when I entered the main room to see Arcee offline, Kup reading a datapad, and Rodimus still at the controls, flipping switches as frantically as he had when I came in earlier.

"Roddy?" I asked him softly. Kup looked up from his datapad briefly, returning to it when he decided I wasn't a threat. Rodimus completely ignored me, pressing buttons with a tenacity that disquieted me. "Hot Rod."

Rodimus looked up at that, a moment of lucidity sparking. "I can't find the channel," he whimpered. Kup sat up quickly, assessing the situation and rousing Arcee. "I don't know what they're doing to him. He could be hurt, or, or-" He turned back and attacked the computer with a new vigor. "I HAVE to find him!"

"Roddy..." This was breaking my energon pump. "You need to rest for awhile."

"Do you hear that?" he asked. We both listened. I heard nothing and told him so. "You can't. I can. The Matrix talks to me all of the time, Springer. It tells me what I need to do. It makes me Prime. Now, it won't shut up." He buried his head in his hands, channel changer finally inert. "It's telling me that he's dead. That I have to let ALL of the Dinobots go, and mobilize our forces against a possible attack." His shoulders shook. I could feel his grief, like waves of sound, shrieking around me.

"It's like an asteroid field, Springer. Constantly pelting me with guilt. Telling me that I'm wrong. That saving him will be my death. To leave him and keep the others close. How can I obey that? It would kill me to leave him with those _things_. Either way, I'm going to die. I can't hear anything else but the Matrix. It just keeps it up, pelting me like a slagging _asteroid field_!" He reached for me; optics still lit too bright. "_I can't take it any more!_"

Kup was there, and Arcee, both talking in soothing tones. How can he hear it over the screaming voices that tormented him? I told them to back off. Placing my hands on his shoulders I allowed my optics to meet his, our foreheads touching. I said nothing, merely keeping contact. I wasn't about to join minds with him or kiss him or anything like that, but I figured all he needed was some kind of tacit assurance that he was doing the right thing, and that all would be well, and that we were all behind him. After a few moments of staring Rodimus finally relaxed, leaning against Kup as he sagged to the ground, offline.

They helped me take him back to his room. I laid him on his recharge plate and turned to leave when I heard him mumble "Who's that?"

"It's me, Springer," I replied, "and I'm on my way out." He waved his arm to say goodbye, too sleepy to say much.

"Thanks, buddy." It was a sigh, like the expression was too much for him to give, but too necessary to withhold. It flowed out of him like water from a fountain, voice slowing to a drizzle as the water supply ran out. I left, since I had work to do.

* * *

The sun on this planet appears reluctantly. The earth doesn't like to move and makes its point evident with the violent coloring it produces as the star it worships blazes a trail across the hemisphere. I decided that my stint as OfficeMax Prime could wait for awhile as I walked out to the memorial hill where plaques with the names of fallen Transformers were displayed in a quiet grove of trees. Just as I thought. In front of me, kneeling on the grass with his fingers tracing the name "Prowl," was my associate. 

"**Too many years, fighting back tears**," he whispered softly, a tune buzzing under his already musical voice like the multi-layered birds chirping around him. "**Why can't the past just die?**" He chuckled ironically, wiping something under his visor. "You know, they still call me The Widow. That kind of thing usually bothered you, Prowlie-bot, but this time there's nobody to get slagged off about it but me." He chuckled again. "It's not in my programming. But you knew that."

With a guilty start I realized that I shouldn't be here; I'd already heard too much. I'd come here on impulse, something I regretted already. Jazz heard me and called me over. I apologized for walking in on him but he wasn't disturbed by it. The plaque with its shiny wording and well-tended grass showed that this mech had been loved. Jazz told his story without my prompting.

"He was too logical for emotion," Jazz began. "It seemed to him that we should be together because it made sense. His CPU worked like that." I could hear him wiping his face again.

"What happened?"

"He fell out of love." Jazz crouched awkwardly in front of the memorial, pulling a small weed out of the grass. "I was kinda surprised he'd fallen IN love to begin with. That guy was something else." He smiled. "We couldn't separate our sparks, so we settled into some kind of...he'd call it 'complacent partnership'. No love, man, at least for him. Funny thing was, after being together for thousands of years he didn't hesitate to ask me to go with him to Cybertron, even though it was a chance for freedom. I stayed here." I knew the rest of the story: playing rotating planet bases, Prowl going back to earth for energon and being shot, Jazz's wandering the universe until he decided to fade away at Metroplex, etc.

"Any regrets?" I asked.

"Lots. We fought more than anything and at one point in time we nearly killed each other. He may have given up in his spark but he was good to me until the end." Here Jazz refused to look up. "His last thought was how much his death would hurt me."

I couldn't take anymore of this. Between him and Roddy I decided to never fall for another Autobot again. It was like I was watching a repeat of the angst Daniel went through after losing his grandfather. Jazz must have an 'off' switch somewhere because he stood up and beckoned me to leave with him a millisecond before I could think of something to say. "We've got a phone call to return back at base."

We used the monitor in Rodimus' office. Marissa Fairborn from the Department of Defense was formally inquiring over the rumors coming out of Metroplex regarding Quintesson infiltration of the planet.

"That's false," I assured her, Jazz sitting on the chair next to me. "The Quintessons are currently negotiating with Rodimus Prime himself."

"Why are the negotiations taking so long?" she demanded. "And where are their coordinates exactly?"

"That's something they haven't revealed," I answered.

Now she was disturbed. "You mean you don't know where they are? Where's Rodimus? I want to talk to him!" By now Jazz had slipped out to radio Ultra Magnus. He was closer than we thought, running over to tell us that Blaster had found the Quintessons' frequency. Although they hadn't sent any messages to us, it all made us relax knowing there was a place to reach them.

"Hello, Marissa."

"Ultra Magnus? Where's Rodimus?"

"He's a little busy, but he authorized these two to discuss details."

"Something they have yet to do! Where are the Quintessons?"

"I'm sorry, that's classified."

"Classified? What are you Autobots hiding from us?" She was not going to accept any of this information. "Are you planning something?"

Ultra Magnus sighed. "Marissa. How often have the Autobots lied to the various earth governments?"

"Well, although I don't want to admit it, my guess would be never."

"With all due respect, Commander, please trust us. By the end of the week, I can give you a more precise report than this, but not at this time."

Marissa sighed back. "I will call you on Sunday," she snarled ungraciously, turning off her telephone. Ultra Magnus lead us away with the good news.

I could not believe the change in Rodimus. What had once been a hysterical container of despair was now an example of superb leadership. He was arguing with one of the Quintessons about how the Dinobots would be allowed off of the ship using his "Rodimus Prime" voice.

"We are not negotiating energon cubes, Prime," hissed Alpha Q. To keep them straight we label them in Greek letters, depending on who talks first. This one was the first one I saw talking, his War face snarling imperiously. "If you desire the one you favor you must come here-alone."

"I want ALL of the Dinobots back," he responded in the same hostile timbre. "The terms you have suggested are unfair, considering I have no proof you haven't fed them to your Sharkticons."

"You wish to view them? So be it." Alpha Q got out of the way to reveal a few military-style Quints pointing guns at all five Dinobots standing in a group, hands bound with energon bonds. Rodimus did not flinch. Instead he leaned over the consul and spoke with a slow, deliberate threat.

"When I arrive at your ship, if I see so much as a DENT on any of them, I will tear your ship apart with my bare hands." I've never heard him talk like this. The fury is apparent as his fingers clawed into the computer, tearing it to pieces as a precursor. His whole being shook as the hostility disappeared, showing a tender expression that petrified me more than the anger. "I love you, Sweetie. I'm coming for you. I promise."

This causes a flurry of activity off-screen.

Beta Q: "What does that mean?"

Gamma Q: "I believe the Autobot leader has lost control of his faculties."

Delta Q: "No! It is code! Observe the captives' reactions!"

Alpha Q returned to screen to hide the camera shot, but we saw it. Snarl and Sludge gave each other frightened looks. Snarl roared in frustration. Grimlock's face never changed, but his visor narrowed to a deathly slit. Swoop broke down. A Dinobot crying. I have never seen anything like it. All of this was covered quickly by an ugly Quintesson face. "You have thirty-six hours, Prime." The TV went off.

Rodimus continued to grab the computer consul, face staring at the screen until I walked over and helped him sit. "He was crying," Roddy moaned.

Swoop. All this time, I thought it was Grimlock. All those _ex post facto_ hints thrown at me. Swoop. It evaporated at the sight of my leader, shaking with emotion. Did The Matrix attack again? "Roddy, can you hear me?" Rodimus nodded.

In all of the time I have known my best friend, there are very few moments when I can say the right thing. Jokes tend to be my MO, not being dramatic. "Go get him, Roddy. We'll help."

Rodimus looked up, amazed. As his blue optics roved the room he saw Arcee, Kup, Ultra Magnus, First Aid, and Blurr nod in agreement. He turned his head to witness Jazz's grin.

"Go get 'em, Prime," he announced, nodding with the rest of us. Rodimus' face lit up.

"Then let's get the strike team going. Roll out!"


	3. Distant Music

Before the Autobots could go anywhere they needed to plan their strategy. Rodimus wished for the billionth time in the last five minutes that he had assembled an actual hierarchy and found a strategist, instead of letting things go wherever they flowed. A clump of arguing Autobots sat in front of him and NO ONE had any viable suggestions.

"We could go in the back door."

"Ships have back doors?"

"Charge up the front!"

"What are you, a Dinobot? What kind of puerile scenario would that serve?" Perceptor looked up and apologized. Rodimus didn't hear it; he was searching the now-sullen Matrix for ideas. It was _pouting_. Rodimus was going to rescue his Sweetie, and it was furious for being told to shut up when it protested. Now it refused to help. (_'And this is supposed to be the most powerful object in the Universe,' Prime snorted.)_

_(**We heard that.)**_

_('Then help!' he retorted.)_

_(**We're processing.)**_

_('Could you process a little faster?')_

"Rodimus, what if we split off into different teams and attacked from various corners a few cycles after you went up to the front door like they want?"

"What if it's a trap?"

"What if the back door is a trap?" replied Ultra Magnus, wondering who invited Perceptor's evil twin to this meeting. He had shot down every single idea, claiming the best line of offense was to let Roddy give them a fake Matrix. This was greeted with less respect than the propositions he rejected.

Rodimus stood up. "Ultra Magnus, your plan might work. Except that I want a team going with me when I go in, because no matter what they say, the Quintessons know I'm going to bring my army. Sometimes the most obvious move is the least expected."

"Are you sure, kid?" Kup finally spoke up. "I don't think there's _any_ good way to do this."

Rodimus Prime nodded in acceptance. "That's what The Matrix said. I'm only taking volunteers, because this is too dangerous for anyone who's not ready for the consequences. Who will come with me?" Springer, Jazz, Blurr, and Perceptor's hands shot up, as did Ultra Magnus, Arcee, and Kup's. Rodimus took the first four and they planned the rest of the attack.

* * *

On Dinobot Island there is an inactive volcano that stoically sits and waits for the end of the world. It is a mile high, a mile wide, and groaning under the weight of all of the imperious egos that filled the spiral-shaped ship on it's flattest area. 

Snarl did not really get what was going on around him. The Quintessons tended to use larger words than what he was acclimated to hearing. Quintesson guns impeded his charging Galvatron, who at the moment inspected their bodies to see where their 'secret powers' were. He was annoying. He handled them like a dog show judge, pulling, poking, and prodding areas best left alone. The minute he began to invade Sludge's personal space Snarl objected.

"You leave me Snarl's best friend alone!" he spoke in a tone worthy of his namesake. Galvatron, always unpredictable at best, ignored the aggressive Dinobot until his scan was finished. The purple mech, optics squinting maliciously, walked over and backhanded the Stegosaurus hard enough to knock him against Grimlock without uttering a word. He then moved to his last victim, Slag, still in Dinobot mode, but his angry march halted in surprise over something Snarl didn't see.

Beyond the Dinobots stood Cyclonus, Scourge, and the sneaky Swindle. Cyclonus hated dealing with Quintessons; it was distasteful, it was beneath the might and honor that made the Decepticons feared throughout the galaxy, but Galvatron had it in his CPU that these burdensome beasts could annihilate the Autobots for them. Now they waited for Rodimus to release his troops to save the love of his life, which was one of these Dinobots but none of them were sure which one. Swindle swore that it was the Pteronadon, but none of them would tell, and their mind probes proved inconclusive. To emphasize his point (and irritate an already volatile Glavatron's temper) the jeep kept pointing to a crayon scribble that looked like a primitive cave drawing, claiming it was the flying Dinobot. No one could decipher the illustration, causing the Quintessons to be uncertain so they kidnapped all five.

"We Decepticons loathe to collaborate, but should this particular device work..." Cyclonus interrupted his uncharitable remark when he realized it had been five minutes and it was time to see what his leader was doing. A quick perusal found him engaged in a staring contest with Slag, the Triceratops. Both were scowling. "Mighty Galvatron?" he asked, bracing himself for the unknown.

"I want this one," Galvatron demanded, his gaze interlocked with the Autobot's. One of the five-faced aliens intervened.

"Negative." The Quintessons were sick of Galvatron already. "We need all of them."

"I WANT THIS ONE!" he screamed, pointing his finger at it as he stomped over to the rest of the group.

"Mighty one," Cyclonus faltered, wondering what kind of melee would result from his leader's whims this time. "We must proceed outside of the ship with the Quintessons if we wish to destroy Prime."

Galvatron looked back at the object of his desires and saw it covertly nod in agreement. "Another time," he barked, begrudgingly turning back to his minions. "Until then, Dinobot...beware."

Slag looked unimpressed as Galvatron allowed his second in command to lead him away. The Megatron he knew had changed; not for the better. "Some things lost forever," he muttered. Swoop sympathetically patted him on the shoulder.

Together the villains floated/walked out of the spaceship to observe the departure. A few warriors and a legion of Sharkticons accompanied the Dinobots-as well as a surprise-into orbit over earth to await the Autobot rescue mission. Galvatron watched the ship go up for about thirty seconds before he focused his attention on shooting the tops of any trees in the valley below them.

"Where did you find a record of this energy source?" Cyclonus demanded. He was stymied as to the purpose of this place. There were active volcanoes, tar pits, Dinosaurs, all of it teeming with untapped energy that for some reason the previous Decepticons had failed to recover. Quintessons had no use for earth; who had told them about the island?

"A...project we have been working on revealed the potential of this spot and its connection to the Dinobots," one of the monsters craftily worded. Cyclonus was curious, but Galvatron snorted out something uncalled-for about them resurrecting the dead to learn their secrets. The Quintessons exchanged glances (or maybe they rotated heads), merely cruelly chuckling

Galvatron did not laugh. He was assembling the Sweeps to scout the area and to take Swindle for his appraisal skills. Scourge, not much of a scientist to begin with, was to look for any potential problems with the island. When asked why he was looking a gift horse in the mouth, Galvatron scowled.

"This is no gift. I want to see what I'm accepting before the final transaction."

If the Quintessons were worried they did not have a face for it. They sent the team out with their blessing and waited for their minion's signal that Rodimus Prime was aboard.

* * *

Metroplex is a large sprawling community of Autobots. He is also a warrior. Many forget this, except for Rodimus Prime, who told him recent events and placed him in charge of himself. Should any mini-bots, soldiers, etc., object, they would have Prime to answer to. Should any Decepticons attack he was to notify Rodimus immediately. Should his leg itch, he could scratch it. 

Metroplex laughed at the feeble joke, a gentle rumble that knocked Bumblebee over. "I will not fail you, Prime."

Rodimus shifted uneasily. He didn't want to leave this place to confront Swoop. If the Dinobot was as upset as the other four, which was likely given the gestalt mentality they all had, he would be sent away with his spark duller and the guilt of Autobot casualties for a pointless skirmish. Arcee had reassured him countless times during his panic attacks that he would be fine, and that they were all behind him, and loved him, but Rodimus felt the pain of inadequacy pounce on him like a Predacon on one of Blaster's unarmed tapes. Bumblebee was tapping him on the back to tell him his telecom was ringing.

"We're ready, Prime." Springer sounded so formal. It didn't seem like him, adding to the unreality of this entire mission. Rodimus boarded Sky Lynx with Jazz, Springer, Perceptor, and Blurr. Already hidden from scanners, waiting on Omega Supreme were Blaster, Arcee, Kup, Bumblebee, and Ultra Magnus. Superion and Computron waited alongside, ready to take off the moment their commander gave the word.

Rodimus sat on a chair and tried to think of anything but Swoop. Their last real conversation still haunted him. Swoop asked if they could be 'best friends,' the Dinobot designation for sparkmates. Roddy, still adamant about keeping his nightly stints under wraps, had been less than enthusiastic. He argued that he would get in trouble, since Prime was supposed to be single.

"Optimus Prime not single," Swoop replied, crayon sketching a giant irregular circle that would represent Rodimus in alt mode. "He have best friend here."

Rodimus was startled. "How do you know that?"

No reply. Merely a smile as he zigzagged his yellow crayon across the circle.

"Swoop," Rodimus tilted his head. "I can't be your best friend. I'm sorry."

"You Rodimus Prime not be me Swoop's best friend?" His whole face drooped.

He had said no. Now it was back to haunt him with a vengeance.

"Uh oh," Jazz noticed a few blips on the screen. "Prime, you're not gonna like this."

"Decepticons?" asked Springer, seated next to the black and white mech. They'd argued over the music selection for the entire journey.

Ultra Magnus spoke over the radio. "We'll handle this, Rodimus."

Sky Lynx's velvety voice had more news. "Prime, I believe there is a rear entrance we can forcefully enter-" (ignoring the giggles from Jazz and Springer) "-on this ship!"

"Let's go." Rodimus really didn't want to do this. He launched himself out of Sky Lynx and sailed over to the Quintesson vessel with the other three at his heels.

* * *

Hidden in the throne room of the Quintesson ship the Dinobots stood chained as their guards wasted firepower blasting holes in the ship's interior walls for entertainment. Grimlock spoke to his followers over their internal radios. 

"They not planning to use ship again," he grunted.

Slag growled. "It Decepticon bomb, like us Dinobots think. Me Slag work on it."

From his corner Swoop sighed. "He not come."

"No need him!" Snarl retorted. "Us Dinobots fine!" Sludge took pity on Swoop, who looked dejected.

"He come. Rod-ee-moose Prime say so," the Apatasaurus soothed.

"No." Grimlock actually moved his face away from the mechs with weapons to glare at Sludge for encouraging Swoop. "Rod-ee-moose Prime done with Swoop. Swoop done with Rod-ee-moose Prime. No more hurt."

"No more hurt," chorused his loyal crew. Swoop stared at the smooth metal of the giant bomb they were strapped to with absent-minded melancholy.

"No more hurt," he sighed, defeated.

* * *

Arcee watched the green, maroon, blue, black and white lump that was the Dinobot's rescue team disappear behind the spiral-shaped ship. She had no idea what Springer was thinking as he helped his former crush liberate somebody else. Was he jealous, or did he laugh at himself, as he had with the other failed relationships? She was sure it was the latter of the two. Springer was slow to anger, quick to forgive, and even quicker to joke. 

"Everybody out!" called Kup, turning his internal radio on. "We've got Decepticons to fight!"

"Whoo-hoo!" called Blaster, releasing his tapes. They jumped out of Omega Supreme to land on the Moon, where Devastator, Menasor, and Predaking awaited with a few triple changers. Sweeps darted overhead, firing at anything they could get their scopes targeted onto. Arcee hit the surface of the planet in car mode and rolled out of their way, Bumblebee helping her lead them away from those still free-falling. Soundwave stepped out of his hiding place in a crater.

"Surprise: intentional. Escape plans: erroneous." He emitted waves to disrupt their processing while releasing his own tapes. Blaster was nearby, countering with his own weapons.

"Soundwave's tune is old! Hear some solid gold! That's a fact, jack!" The two grappled, foes as old as the satellite they stood on, their tapes hissing and snarling at their feet. Bumblebee held Ravage off while something crackled on their radios.

"Arcee! We need ya, kid!" It was Kup, stuck trying to hold off Predaking and the triple changers with Ultra Magnus while Sky Lynx took on the Sweeps.

"Coming!" she called, worried already. They were grievously outnumbered. 'Hurry up, Rodimus!'

* * *

Getting through the backdoor was easy enough. Fire laser, hold trigger down, and peel steel. Jazz had done it before. Unlike Kup, he didn't bother to detail the background story behind his knowledge, which was too bad because it was a funny little anecdote... 

Maybe the hundreds of Sharkticons coming their way in the giant pit they had accidentally wandered into would like to hear the story. Jazz laughed to himself over that idea.

"Roddy, Jazz and Blurr can take these guys," explained Springer, transforming. "You and Perceptor get on! Jazz, I'll be back!"

Jazz watched him leave as he checked his blaster. It was low on ammo, thanks to its service as a can opener. "Take your time!" he called gamely, seeing a whisk of blue before Blurr took off to begin his attack. "This calls for a little fighting music." He decided to play a favorite of Blurr's. **That's great it starts with an earthquake...**

Springer carried the scientist and Rodimus over the mass of Sharkticons to a higher platform, where - jackpot! - the Dinobots stood in energon chains, facing the giant bomb they were attached to. This was a special touch only Quintessons liked to do, preferring their victims to see death coming. Springer dumped them off and flew back down to help Jazz and Blurr, who had energetically begun a new song.

"**Fuel?"** Springer asked, facing Jazz but slightly off to the right as he shot at the Sharkticons behind his friend. Jazz laughed at the hint. The two rotated outward, now facing away.

"Blurr likes how fast they rock. I was thinking of playing Outkast."

"Bombs over Baghdad?" he guessed, smiling as the sparkly beginning preamble to the hard driving beat and fast talking began. (CUE UP THE PLAYER, BOYS AND GIRLS, IT'S FIGHTIN' MUSIC! Read it fast enough and it fits.) Jazz grinned and crouched low to avoid a Sharkticon tail, pushing Springer down with him.

Springer stood up quickly and pulled out another weapon. "Blurr! Fight number 57!" the green mech called out.

"Gotitgotitfightnumber5757Icanremeberthat!"

"Ready?" Jazz asked, as Springer transformed.

"**1-2-3-Yeah!"**

Jazz jumped up, grabbing a spot on Springer's undercarriage, shooting as the helicopter rose. Springer spun quickly in circles, glad Jazz had good aim. Underneath them Blurr wove his way among the flock, thinning out those trying to take cover from the two in the sky. There were confused Sharkticons finding themselves tripping over bodies of comrades who were running for their lives a minute ago...and the NOISE!

The Sharkticons were not going to give up that easily. They quickly headed for the area away from the flying menace in such a massive exodus Blurr got out of their way, squealing for Jazz to stop shooting before someone got hurt, namely Blurr. Jazz released his grip on his transportation and chased after the Sharkticons, Blurr passing him. A Sharkticon ran towards Jazz from behind at a 45 degree angle.

Jazz's blaster picked that exact moment to fail him. His upper half was twisted partially while trying to fight off an almost impenetrable walking pair of jaws. Jazz stopped running, braced himself for the impact, but still flew across the room when the Sharkticon hit him. He collided with a nearby wall with a grin on his face. The attacker didn't see it, because the business end of Blurr's gun had made the assault on Jazz a moot point.

"Thanks!"

* * *

Tied up, looking exhausted, miserable, and dirty, stood Swoop. It took all of Roddy's self control to keep from leaping in the air and landing on top of him in happiness. None of the Dinobots looked particularly pleased to see them. 

**Don't pull the thang out, unless to plan to bang. Bombs over Baghdad...Yeah**

Perceptor hurried over to release the prisoners while Rodimus summoned the courage he'd lost momentarily at the sight of his beloved. Four of the five turned to face their leader with wrathful grimaces immediately hidden as they transformed into Dinobot mode. Swoop refused to look at him, directing Perceptor to the back of the bomb. At the sight of this Rodimus spring into action. He made a move to go after them but was thwarted by Slag's fire breath.

"That had better be a cheerful greeting," Rodimus snarled darkly. The Dinobot fighting stance as a response told him it was not.

**Uno, Dos, Tres, it's on**

"You Rod-ee-moose stay away from Swoop!" roared Grimlock. "You bad!"

"Stay away! Stay away!" the other three chanted.

"I can't believe this. Swoop!" he called, trying again to get near him and receiving blasts from his opponents for his trouble. "Swoop, talk to me!"

He was not making much headway, between the shots and the fact that Swoop had kidnapped Perceptor and made a break for it. Rodimus flipped, slipped, and crawled his way around the Dino-fire to find himself at a livid Tyrannosaurus Rex's giant feet. Grimlock towered over his Autobot leader with a ferocity he saved for their enemies. "You Rod-ee-moose one. Dinobots many. Us Dinobots stop you Rod-ee-moose," he declared, jaws snapping Rodimus Prime's gun to smithereens.

Rodimus brought his second blaster from subspace and turned it on. "If I have to fight every single one of you to get to him, I will." To the pit with the special relationship he'd built with them, if at the first weak moment they tried to melt him down for scrap.

Grimlock relished the challenge. "You kill us first."

Roddy charged. "No problem!"

* * *

**Hold up, slow up, stop, control. **

The enemy stopped running to face them and forced Jazz to improvise. He punched and kicked; his piece de resistance was grabbing a Sharkticon tail to fend off his attackers by swinging one of them to knock a few of the others. That didn't work when the giant set of feet caught their balance easily. Springer threw the only weapon he could spare at his friend: part of his 'copter blade. Grinning, Jazz swung the heavy metal plank at the Sharkticons in time to the music. Springer produced the other plank and attacked a few meters from his fighting double.

* * *

**Don't pull the thang out, unless to plan to bang. Bombs over Baghdad...Oh, Yeah**

Outside, Ultra Magnus, Kup, and Arcee were having a terrible time keeping Predaking at bay. Now that Computron had been riddled with shots, there were not enough combining Transformers to fight the Decepticon giants, and the Predacon menace was beating the slag out of Magnus' troops.

Omega Supreme had carried Devastator away and had not been seen since. Blaster defeated Soundwave and his minions and now all five of them had the remaining triple changer (one had fled) occupied. Sky Lynx dragged the Sweeps into space, leaving the Autobots not as crowded but still grossly overrun.

**Instrumental**

"We need a plan!" yelled Bumblebee.

"I'm open to suggestions!" called Ultra Magnus, bringing out his second round of ammunition. The cliff they were hiding behind had long been shot apart and they were on the verge of being stomped on.

"How about 'run for it'?" Arcee screamed as Predaking's lower left appendage smashed their solid protection. They did just that.

* * *

"Excellent! Annihilate them, Predaking!" Galvatron watched them via King Kam, as Swindle called it. The perspective of the gestalt was accessible to the Decepticon leader as he sipped recently-harvested energon on Dinobot Island. Cyclonus scowled. Nothing about this island was stable, a fact the multi-faceted Quintessons neglected to mention. If Scourge could calculate this, then it must have been even more obvious to the Decepticons before them. He had to get his lord out of here. The grumbling of the Quintessons as they continuously pressed a button on a remote control did not alleviate his growing apprehension, either. 

"Mighty Galvatron, we must render aid to our minions." Cyclonus stood up after being punched for his troubles and dusted himself off. Messy, this planet was. His leader continued to glower at his second-in-command menacingly.

"We will render aid when they require it, not before," he snarled. "That is part of my plan, Cyclonus, a realization you would come to faster if you obeyed me instead of considering me an imbecile."

The rabbit-eared Decepticon bowed and apologized. The Quintessons refrained from commentary, instead asking which ship would come to retrieve them once his plan was completed.

"Astrotrain," Galvatron responded, imbibing the rest of his beverage. "Should any of my underlings speak again, you have my permission to shoot them." Onscreen, the Autobots had disappeared from Predaking's scanners.

Where are they? There was only silence, until...

* * *

**Bob your head, rag top.**

Rodimus was having a bad time with the Dinobots. They spared no delicacies in destroying their leader, and though Roddy fought back, Dinobot exoskeletons are difficult to damage. His best method was to get them to hit each other accidentally. Transforming into vehicle mode, Rodimus had them chasing after him as he maneuvered his way around the terrible lizards.

"You Rod-ee-moose Prime lousy leader! You run from us Dinobots!" Now Slag was taunting him, fire nipping at Roddy's tailpipe.

"I'm here to talk to Swoop! Swoop!" He was concentrating so hard on trying to find the missing Dinobot he missed Sludge heading him off and stomping on his hood hard enough to pierce it with his claws. "AUGH!"

* * *

"Look out!" Jazz ducked before both a racing Blurr and a leaping Springer ran into him as he rushed towards the nearby wall to protect himself. Fight number 57 was too complicated for him and he kept getting in the way. 

**Power music. Electric revival.**

"I'm moving, man! Gimme a minute!" the saboteur responded frantically. "I can't see any of ya!"

Blurr raced by, Doppler effect of his speech making him more perceptible than silent-but-deadly Springer. Jazz laughed out loud over that.

Fight number 57 was no laughing matter: Springer was jumping around the room, landing at random places that confused the enemy so that they never knew where he was until he'd leapt away. Meanwhile, Blurr was going in the opposite direction of whatever pattern Springer had devised, both meeting together to massacre Sharkticons in BOTH directions of the spot Springer landed, causing double the destruction. Jazz tried to stay out of their way, but the two were bouncing off the walls and ceiling as they fought.

It finally occurred to one of the Sharkticons to go after the only VISIBLE mech in the room, halting Springer and Blurr's killing spree the second Jazz called to them that they might have a problem. Springer halted his hop to see the enemy dogpile on top of Jazz. Blurr reacted a split second faster, firing at the mound first.

"Hey! I'm still under here!" Jazz called as Springer dove in a mech and pulled him out in alt mode. "I like your helicopter self," he complimented cheerfully as the goons below him fried.

"Arewedoneyet'causeI'mgettingboredtheseSharkticons'causethere'stoomany!ImeanIcantakeanarmythat'seasytokillbutthisisridiculouswhatdoyouthinkSpringer?"

All three looked around at the devastation below them. "We did TOO good a job, Blurr. I can't see anything from the smoke and debris. Wait a second, I'll clean it up." Dropping Jazz, the helicopter leaned in enough to allow his blades to blow everything in front of him into a corner. Nothing was left. "We're done. Let's find Rodimus."

* * *

...from out of the sky fell the Autobots, landing on Predaking's head with loud cheering. Sky Lynx was back from his victory over the Sweeps to render aid, as was the happy Omega Supreme. The large Gestalt tilted the back of is head to drop them from their perches but it was too late; they were gripping his neck and head, shooting any part of his body with tenacity. Now he couldn't straighten his head to see them better. 

"Things are looking up!" called Arcee.

"Boo!" came the response.

**End of song**

* * *

Rodimus had been severely injured but continued rolling to find Swoop long after his tires were flat. "Swoop!" he called, vocalizer scratchy from the abuse. The halls were dark here, all pointing to darker corridors, leaving Rodimus at a loss. The Dinobots had not stopped chasing after him either, giving him no time to deliberate these hallways. 

"Swoop! Sweetie! Please! I need to talk to you!" Nothing but echoes. "I don't want to hide you and me from the Autobots anymore. I love you!"

The only response he received was unwelcome. "You not nice to Swoop. You not listen to me Grimlock. You sorry now."

Rodimus tried to transform and failed. He could hear the heavy footsteps behind him slow down, not because they were tired or giving up, but because their prey was so pathetic. He finally succeeded leaving his alternate mode, crawling in the empty halls. He reached into his subspace compartment and pulled out the picture Swoop had drawn of them, but when he stumbled it fluttered out of his hand and wafted down the hall into the dark abyss before him.

"Swoop. I'm not perfect. I was...stupid. Scared of too many things. I didn't know what I was doing with Springer, but there's no doubt in my mind now. I am SO sorry." The Dinobots stopped their pursuit, looming over him like storm clouds. Four pairs of blue optics scowled at him in the gloom. Snarl spoke up first.

"You have Matrix. You still Prime. You say yourself, Prime stay single."

The Matrix had not been any help in this situation, telling him to get up and flee the ship with everyone, since anyone could tell that bomb was remote-controlled and if they hadn't died a fiery death yet they would at any moment. To help him win back Swoop, The Matrix had been silent. Now it indignantly reminded him to reiterate the responsibilities of the Chosen One to these simple yet perceptive creatures.

Rodimus Prime had had enough. He was leaking energon everywhere. He was in pain. There was no sign of Swoop. He could see Springer, Blurr, and Jazz running up to them, stopping when Slag informed them that one more step and Rodimus would be fancy red sheet metal. They halted in their tracks only when their leader raised his hand to signal them to wait.

"If I must choose between being the Autobot leader and being with Swoop," he creaked, prying open his punctured chest, "then I choose to be with Swoop. I don't want The Matrix, you can have it." He tossed it to the floor, where it slid beyond the group to a new pair of feet. Rodimus looked deep into a newly-emerged fifth set of blue optics as he shrunk to Hot Rod, losing half of his remaining strength in the process. The Matrix sent one last thought as it was kicked aside. (_**Excellent work, Prime. You've learned the true way without our prompting. We're proud of you.** 'You mean you were telling me the opposite thing to get me to do the right thing?' he thought, supposing he should be upset but wasn't. **'Indeed. We're the most powerful thing in the Universe. We know what works with each Prime.'**_) It was humorous. Really, if only he hadn't been pounded into a new alt mode to learn it. Swoop hurried to him.

"Sweetie!" Swoop squealed, scooping up his beloved. Hot Rod laughed weakly.

"You're right. It's a dumb nickname."

"It perfect." The Dinobot gave him the crushing hug his sub-group was famous for. "Swoop still you Roddy's Sweetie."

Springer's jaw hung slack, more than slightly off to the left as his processor finally caught up with reality. "_Sweetie_? He dumped me for a _Sweetie_!"

Jazz tried not to laugh and failed. "It's not that bad, man. No, wait, I take it back." He started to guffaw.

Hot Rod let a tear slide down his face as an enormous amount of pain sent him offline. Swoop accidentally let him drop, realized what happened, and called for Perceptor. Timidly the mech asked if he could get out of microscope mode now.

"Get over here!" called Sludge, relieved Swoop had forgiven Hot Rod.

"What about the bomb?" Jazz asked. "We're gonna be back on earth WITHOUT Sky Lynx if we don't split!"

Slag, uncharacteristically shy, produced a few parts. Sludge explained, while interrupted by Snarl and translated by Perceptor, that Slag had rearranged the trip mechanisms to make the circuits incomplete. The bomb would not be set off unless the Quintessons attempted to repair its interior.

"Howdidyoufigurethatout?Nooffensebutyouaren'tmyfirstchoiceinbombrepair-" Blurr wondered. Slag growled, shutting him up.

"Megatron taught me."

Springer's jaw almost hit the floor. "I must be in an another universe," he said, the same time Jazz proclaimed he didn't just hear that. He heard Sky Lynx radioing them to inform them that the Decepticons had retreated and that Astrotrain was on his way up there with a shipment of disgruntled Quintessons, therefore it might be a decent solution to leave.

"Me, Grimlock-ee-moose Prime, new Autobot leader, order everyone out! Us Autobots let Decepticons blow up ship!" Grimlock held the Matrix aloft as he pronounced his orders with a solemnity Charlton Heston would have been proud of. Swoop, Hot Rod cradled in his arms, started the parade, with Blurr racing ahead on the offer to make sure that ALL of the Sharkticons were gone. Slag, Snarl, and Sludge lumbered after them, with Springer and Jazz being hustled out by their new 'Prime' while he attempted to talk to his acquired accessory. "Opt-ee-moose Prime! It me, Grimlock! Can you hear me?"

Jazz was laughing so hard he was doubled over. Springer continued to shake his head at nothing in particular, finally snickering with Jazz. And during Blurr's fussing and the snarling of his fellow Dinobots Swoop looked down at his unconscious friend offline and kissed his sleeping face.

* * *

Galvatron turned to Cyclonus, furious his lackey had been correct about the whole situation. "Cast them out," he ordered. 

"Yes, my lord," droned the pink/purple mech, trying not to smirk as he hoisted one of the heavier Quintessons. Tentacles flailed.

"You'll regret this, Decepticon! We created you!"

"I regret nothing but allowing you my time!" he snapped, watching the wounded Sweeps throw the Quintessons into space, allowing them to glide in the direction of their ship. "Your plan failed, your bomb malfunctioned, and I didn't get to have that Dinobot!" Galvatron turned to storm down to his chambers and paused in front of Cyclonus.

"Thirty astro-minutes from now, I expect you on my recharge plate with energon," he commanded. Astrotrain gave an audible groan of disgust but couldn't say much, even though this would go on inside of him.

"Yes, mighty one," his second-in-command simpered, barely hiding his amusement. He loved it when a plan didn't come together.

* * *

Metroplex was quiet for a Saturday night. Jazz strolled back from the memorial garden and listened to the muted activity behind closed doors. Arcee was watching 'Walker, Texas Ranger' reruns in the commissary with Red Alert and Blurr, sipping energon as they made rude comments about the triteness of the show. Ultra Magnus and Kup played cards in the Dinobot rumpus room. Kup had become a pinochle addict since he first came to earth, and Ultra Magnus was off-duty that night. Four Dinobots (and a bored Tracks) sat around the card table, listening to Kup tell stories while they munched on popcorn. 

"That stuff's bad for your teeth," Jazz told them. Worse for their systems, being inorganic.

"Us Dinobots floss," their leader proclaimed. Jazz chuckled as he took off for more adventure.

Wheelie and Daniel were making preparations to explore Metroplex's head. Now that things were back to normal, Daniel and Wheelie were ready to follow through on the plans they had secured permission for a week ago. Jazz walked them as far as the training facility before he stopped to check out the party going on inside.

Music blared. (Powerman 5000's "**When World's Collide**.") Blaster had a bo staff and was trying to take on Rewind and Bumblebee at the same time. He was losing, especially since the mini-bots were tag-teaming to gain the advantage.

"Jazz! My man with pizzazz! Help out your brother, I ain't got no other!" Blaster laughingly pleaded as his tapes tackled him, tickling him mercilessly. Jazz shook his head, telling him he looked like he had the situation under control.

In med bay First Aid was on duty, watching over Rodimus as he slept. Swoop had pushed a gurney next to his and was cuddling with him, hand on his replaced chestplate (Matrix returned), kissing him whenever the patient woke up. The Dinobot waved to Jazz as he walked by, and the black and white mech returned the gesture. 

As Jazz passed by Rodimus' office door he could hear rock playing softly through the walls. Aerosmith, obviously, singing "**Pink**." He smiled to himself and knocked. "Come in."

"Working late, huh?" asked the Porsche. Springer was looking over one of the hundreds of datapads on the desk that needed their attention...yesterday. He grunted in response.

"OfficeMax Prime is still on duty, as long as Rodimus' vacation lasts," he explained, filing what he had and picking up another. "If recovering from a Dinobot attack is a vacation. I wanted to talk to you about something: it seems Roddy finally realized he needed a second-in-command."

Devious smile apparent, Jazz shrugged. "I don't know who told him that. All I said was that he'd better come up with a back-up plan the next time something happens to Sweetie."

Springer returned the grin. "Right. I'm third in the hierarchy, with Kup. He told me I could choose our direct underlings. Since you're not doing anything, I told him you could use the extra work."

He would be away from Red Alert. That was enough. "Hey man, thanks." They smiled at each other for a few minutes, before the silence became uncomfortable. Springer turned back to his work, inviting Jazz to pull up a chair if he wanted to. Jazz didn't. He stared at the handsome green face in front of him and considered the mystique that would probably annoy him until his curiosity was satisfied. That was when the Porsche decided to lean over the desk, place his hands around Springer's face and kiss him.

It was abrupt, not covering his lips quite right; and brief, only lasting a few seconds before Jazz pulled away with a sad expression of disappointment. Springer saved him the trouble of explanation.

"I'm not Prowl."

"No." He replied, moving away and trying to regain his dignity. The whole impulse had opened a Pandora's box of problems. Still, hope lingered...

"I never will be, buddy. We'll have to either live with that or pretend nothing ever happened. Here," he said, handing him yet another datapad while his deep voice kept the double meaning apparent, "keep me company."

Jazz looked at the earnest face, slowly pulled up a chair and sat down, uneasy. Keep him company. That sounded simple enough. Jazz might even be able to dig that, once he got used to Springer's idea of what made good music. His mischievous smile reappeared. "I will, if you let me change the CD." He ducked the flying datapad and lunged for the player while Springer hollered 'Get away from there!'

* * *

Rodimus Prime had many fears in his young life. Decepticons. The deaths of everyone around him. Being a good leader. His own faults. None of these had gripped him as ruthlessly as the fear of Swoop never forgiving him. That fear had almost paralyzed him, frightening The Matrix enough to cause its mental assault, which hadn't helped. Thank Primus for his friends. They had been there when he needed them, especially Springer.

Springer...Roddy looked over at Swoop asleep on the gurney next to him. He owed Springer an apology. There had been mixed signals, refusals to acknowledge the truth, and a desperation to be normal impeding his judgement. Swoop awoke again and leaned over to kiss him. He had been doing that all night. Rodimus looked into the glowing optics that caressed him in the lightless med bay and felt all of his fears melt like steel, becoming a warm happiness strengthening his core instead of immobilizing him.

"Sweetie," he said in the dark, pausing for the objection. None. Rodimus continued. "Stay."

"Me Swoop you Roddy's best friend. Me stay." The optics squinted delightedly at Rodimus' sigh of relief. A hand reached out for him in the dark, drawing him close.


End file.
